


Nesting Instinct

by InterNutter



Series: Primal Instincts [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: But not how you think, Gen, Pon Farr, Trust me to take a sexytimes trope and make it about snuggles and family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 06:57:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13382553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterNutter/pseuds/InterNutter
Summary: Something is happening to Taako, but it's all perfectly natural. The only worry is the fallout effects on Angus McDonald.





	1. Angus

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: TAZ: Balance belongs to the McElroys and Luume’irma belongs to @interstellarvagabond on Tumblr. I’m planning to create a lot of mayhem with that. You rock.
> 
> From the Encyclopedia Faerunica...
> 
> Luume’irma (n): (pron: loom ER-ma) Lit “Time of Desire” in Elven. Also known as That Time of the Decade, The Cycle, Fuck Fever, Luume, Aunt/Uncle Irma, The Heat, The Passion, A Great Excuse For Smut, Fantasy Pon Farr, or, Oh Fuck Not This Again. In Elves in good health, the cycle begins at anywhere between age sixty and age eighty, and continues every ten years until their early seven hundreds, or when their health can no longer sustain the exertions inherent in the ordeal.
> 
> Luume onset is largely considered another stage of Elven puberty, separate from their superficial physical maturity.
> 
> Progression: Elves experiencing Luume initially experience fever-like symptoms, followed by increasing discomfort and lowering capacity for focus and rational thought. If they do not have a sexual partner, and no young, they will actively seek a sexual partner. Any attempt to resist the impulse results in increasing discomfort to the point of pain.
> 
> Elves under the influence experience a heightened metabolism as well as fertility for a period no longer than seventy-two hours, or three days. They exude elevated levels of pheromones and, in extremis, have been known to vocalise at a primitive level. In brief, int and wis briefly become the sufferer’s dump stat while strength and endurance are ramped up to the maximum.
> 
> Contrary to popular belief, Elves under the influence do not rape. They can sense consent or desire in another, but their usual selective criteria are generally forgotten in favour of (a) alive, and (b) willing.
> 
> Following the orgasmic rush of lust, Elves are typically exhausted and in need of restocking their usual reserves. Some experience an enhanced need to ‘stock up’ before they enter Luume and thus have some warning of their oncoming cycle. Most are not that lucky.
> 
> Amelioration: Elves with family experience their cycle far differently than ones without. The Elf under the influence becomes extremely protective and nurturing, becoming ten times as deadly to anyone or thing perceived to be an enemy to the Elf in question, their young or their partner(s).
> 
> Underage Elves are usually massaged at pressure points near and on their ears to ‘turn off’ the worst effects of Luume, or are given the care of a much younger Elf for the duration.
> 
> Complications: The first Luume an Elf is allowed to experience without interference is always the hardest to hit. No exceptions.
> 
> Elves who have endured an impoverished or malnourished childhood are no longer capable of experiencing a regular cycle, or even regular symptom progression. The first anyone else around them knows about it is witnessing their friend become a sex (or nurturing) obsessed animal with a limited or non-existent vocabulary.

Angus McDonald woke to the smell of many delicious things. He almost drifted downstairs on the wafting scents before getting ready for the day. His stomach loudly reminded him that he hadn't really eaten since a late snack and a hot chocolate on his return to the home he shared with Taako and Kravitz.

Thus, Angus rushed himself through his morning ablutions. Every bedroom in Casa de Taako had a fantasy ensuite with hot and cold running water, as well as every other luxury that Taako could plausibily cram in there.

_ Then _ Angus allowed himself to float lazily downstairs, buoyed by the delectable food stink. Taako had been on a cooking spree. Offerings lay on every exposed counter, some were still steaming. All were pungently delicious.

Taako was working on an omelette containing all of Angus’ favourite fillings in the best possible combinations. Including his favourite cheese. “Ah,” Taako smiled. “Hungry child. Breakfast?”

The omelette slid onto a plate and gathered a brief scattering of sauces and more cheese.

“Mmm… thank you, sir,” Angus found a place to sit and a fork to eat with. Perfect. As he’d come to expect from Taako’s cooking. The omelette was gone before he knew it.

Takao had plated another array of offerings. “Hungry boy,” he said in pleased tones. “Winter. Gotta get fat.”

Angus and his student diet of cheap plus fast had to agree with that. He had had more than enough of fantasy ramen, once a day, as his only meal and the free orange quarters that the college health board handed out on a weekly basis. Therefore he was more than inclined to ignore Taako’s disjointed speech pattern, just then, because it came with a heaping helping of food.

His stomach agreed, and encouraged Angus to dismiss Taako’s weird verbiage as some kind of goof.

And it did fit with some of the more… peculiar angles of Taako’s humour.

He also ignored Taako’s propensity for just… draping himself around Angus and occasionally purring. Taako after he got his memories back was way more demonstrative with his affections than the Taako Angus knew between the Rockport Limited and the Hunger War. There were still bouts of his trademark prickliness, but they were getting increasingly rare.

“I’m glad to be home, too, sir,” Angus said, working on his fifth plate.

“Baby safe,” cooed Taako. One elegantly bedecked hand wrapped around Angus’ wrist. Taako murmured a worried note. “Skinny… Winter. Cold bad. Hungry baby. Gotta get fat.”

Belatedly, it began to occur to Angus that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t an elaborate goof. “Are you… quite okay, sir?”

Taako’s mismatched eyes met Angus’, and it became increasingly clear that the master flipwizard wasn’t entirely all there. The sound that issued forth from him was closer to the purring ‘mrrp?’ that a curious cat might make. And then a bowl of something creamy and flavourful got pushed under Angus’ nose. “Eat. Winter. Snow.”

Angus ticked boxes in his head, even as he ate. He was still a hungry boy. Taako possessed the following symptoms: Flushed countenance. Dilated pupils. Slightly animalistic posture. Primitive vocalisations. Preparing a gosh-darn  _ unearthly _ amount of food… Lessened vocabulary…

The next time Taako embraced him, Angus felt Taako’s pulse. Elevated. Steady and strong, but elevated.

“Sir? Is it your -uh- cycle time?”

His only answer was an uncomprehending stare and some abundant purring. And, after a significant pause while Luume-addled Taako attempted to process this question, he said, “Feed baby. Winter.”

Well, shit.

For the first time in his life, Angus was really, really glad that he was at the ‘hollow legs’ stage of growing up. He would be okay for a while, as long as he was eating. And Taako’s instincts had classed Angus as a child to protect. Which was good so long as any strangers didn’t come knocking. Taako appeared to be sinking fast.

Angus realised that he’d come downstairs without his Stone of Farspeech. And that it never paid to try and pickpocket Taako. Pocket pudding was only one of the little traps that Taako wove into his regular wear. Plus, he might not have it on him.

This was probably going to suck.

Taako darted away with a simple, “Nest,” but was back before Angus could even try to race upstairs for his Stone. Angus devoted some time to measuring the intervals between Taako visits. Not quite long enough to race upstairs and race back. But he could get three quarters of a round trip. And he knew where his Stone was.

The instant Taako left the room again, Angus took off. Straight up the stairs to his suite and over the bed towards his luggage.

Okay. He  _ thought _ he knew where his Stone was…

“BABY!”

Fuck.

Angus raced back downstairs and let himself get snatched by a hyper-anxious Taako, who instantly patted Angus down for any sign of injury before huddling with him under the countertop. And then fetching down a big bowl of something steaming and loaded with wild rice.

Taako offered the serving spoon loaded with the contents. “Eat. Hide. Safe.” After a seeming moment’s thought, he added, “Winter.”

Oh Gods, he was in real trouble now.


	2. Taako

What was left of Taako under the influence of Luume’irma did not understand a lot of things. His current vocabulary, when he had command of such things, was simple, brief, and to the point. Most of it was ‘want’ and ‘you’ in that order.

But now he had a baby.

A skinny baby. Hungry baby.

Taako had made a metric ton of good, good food, and the baby was happy. Taako  _ liked _ having a happy baby.

But the baby was not safe. This den was too open. He had to make a nest. Good nest. Safe nest. Safe nest for safe baby.

Safe baby  _ important. _

The baby had already wandered too far once, so now Taako carried the baby with, on his urgent missions to build a good, good nest to keep his baby warm and safe. He seized a soft thing and added it to the new cote, built up around the access to the best cleaning room in the entire den.

Clean baby also important.

Baby was getting fussy. Trying to wriggle free. Baby didn’t know how to be safe. Taako had experienced, first hand, how the world could be cruel to children. He had roughly one hundred and ten years of experience in regards to how cruel a world it was.

But the bit of Taako that was left in charge during his Luume’irma could not organise those memories and space them out in logical progression. The bit of Taako that was left only understood this:

Outside  _ bad. _ Keep baby  _ inside. _

Which baby did not like. Baby was making noise. Not much noise. There were words in there, but the remaining fragments of Taako failed to understand them. He purred and shushed and fed the baby, between obsessive efforts to build a good, good,  _ good _ den.

Quiet baby was safe baby. And Taako did every kindness to try and shush him. Including a gentle hand over the baby’s mouth and a warning growl at the empty spaces and the growing shadows and the windows that showed the dreaded snow.

The baby said, “Oh… kay. I see. It’s gonna be like that,” and not one of those words made it to the functioning parts of Taako’s brain. Baby grew quiet. Made themself comfortable in Taako’s arms.

Good baby. More food. Nice food. Treat food. Good stuff for fat baby. Winter was time for fat. Fat good. Fat helps live in the cold times.

_ Need _ baby to live. Skinny baby must live through winter. Feed baby.

The den was coming together. Good nest. Safe nest. Keep baby away from attackers.

Guard only entrance.

Fetch food. Feed baby.

Wait for mate.


	3. Kravitz

Kravitz was careful not to get snow on his boots as he entered the world of the living. Taako fucking hated snow and didn’t want to look at any of it. Especially not on the really nice boots that he’d got for Kravitz just two Candlenights ago.

He put himself in the freshest outfit for Taako. And fumbled with the key to the mud-room… and found it unlocked.

Uh oh.

Taako only left the doors alone when he was in Luume’irma. It was one of his very few tells. That, and laying in supplies of enough cooked food to last more than a year.

Kravitz had started his existence as a rather isolated human and his first encounter with Luume'irma had been Taako warning him about the essentials as he sank down to Cave-Elf level or lower. Fear stabbed his heart at the thought of sex-obsessed Taako running loose in the house. Desperately seeking his mate.

He opened the door and locked it behind him. There was a mess in the kitchen, and loads of covered dishes over almost every available surface. Taako had been here. Taako had been all _over_ here.

But that did not explain why the whole place looked like it had been tumbled and torn to shreds. He had a vertiginous moment of thinking that someone had broken in and abducted Taako. But no. There would be way more fallout that merely gutted furniture and a clear and present absence of pillows.

The entire upstairs was not disturbed. Taako had not been here. He had focussed his obsessive behaviour on the downstairs rooms and Angus--

Shit.

“Angus!” Kravitz called.

Silence. Ominous silence. Surely Taako wouldn’t have… He couldn't have... Could he? Why the fuck hadn't he looked this up like he'd been procrastinating about doing for literal years? Why, why, why, why _WHY_ didn't he know this shit already? _I swear to my Queen if everything is okay, I will research the fuck out of Lumme'irma so I know everything and don't have so much to worry about..._

“Sir! In here! I’m a little-- whup!”

That was sound enough. Kravitz ran to the master bedroom. The one with the best ensuite with the top-of-the-market shower and bath unit from the highest areas of research in Miller Labs. Taako had some connections.

And what he had now was a set of dangerous instincts and the custody of a child.

Most of the furniture in the master bedroom had been shoved towards one corner. In the opposite corner, covering the entrance to the ensuite, was a huge lump of soft materials. Dominating more than half of the entire room. And a small tunnel that an adult could barely crawl through.

Kravitz knelt down. In the dark within was one amber light and one green one. “All good, Dove?”

Raucous purring. Taako emerged to pull Kravitz inside.

“It’s whisper town in here, sir,” whispered Angus. He seemed unharmed. Relatively untraumatized. But then again, this was the boy who had been literally pulled from his Candlenights bed into an ice dungeon to be friends with a young Snow Ogre. Amongst many other horrible things.

“Are you… okay?” Kravitz asked. Taako retreated from the tunnel entrance and wrapped himself around Angus. Doing nothing more ominous than grooming the boy.

“Taako hasn’t done anything to harm me, sir,” he whispered. “I’m pretty sure my presence has triggered a nurturing instinc--” Taako successfully crammed a spoon of something into Angus’ mouth.

Kravitz breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh. Oh, that’s okay. Normally, he’s… a lot more handsy. To say the least.” Handsy was the least of it. Tonguey and randy were definitely in there.

“Less handsy, more feedsy, sir,” said Angus. Fending off another spoonful.

Taako’s ever-present purr turned into a confused and mournful trill.

Kravitz got his hands on Taako’s head and went for the usual turn-off points. Whispering, “There, now, love. There now… Sssh. Ssh…”

“...baby,” mumbled Taako. Not going under as easily as the other times.

“I’ve got him, now. Ssh…”

“Cold,” complained Taako.

“Not in here. Not for long.” His love for Taako was already doing its work. Warming him up. And this den he’d built was on the toasty side. Not hot enough to be uncomfortable, but definite proof against any winter chill that dared attempt to invade.

“Winter,” said Taako. “Skinny baby.”

“He’s going to be fine.” The right pressure in the right spots made Taako shiver from head to toe for all of ten seconds, and then he slumped, content, across Kravitz. “And now, so are you.”

Taako’s pounding heartbeat slowed. His breathing did too.

“There,” Kravitz singsonged in a gentle, soothing tone. “Now we just make sure he doesn’t have cause to be disturbed until this all wears off.”

Angus looked alarmed. “How long is that going to be, sir?”

“We should be okay by tomorrow. Maybe,” Kravitz very carefully shrugged, so as not to disrupt Taako. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen him in nesting mode. It could be longer. We’ll have to see.”


	4. Aftermath

Taako woke to Kravitz’s heartbeat and the sight of Angus in his pyjamas and reading a book.

“Sir? Are you… yourself again?”

He looked around. Gods. This looked like he’d dragged every soft object on the ground floor into one place to make a traditional Elf Cote out of it all. “Hachi machi,” he breathed. “What the fuck did I even  _ do?” _

Angus gave him the relevant details. Taako’s slow slide from rational thought into a non-verbal proto-Elf with a thing for feeding Angus. The den and his physical insistence that they all stay in it. The drastic hatred of winter and the repeated injunction to ‘get fat’. And, of course, the literal mountains of food.

Taako had evidently been sleeping it all off, today, but his little family had decided to err on the side of caution.

Taako listened to it all, and Kravitz’s additions to Angus’ story. Including how they carefully managed to get food for the two days in the Cote from Taako’s ample supply.

“Well, shit, bring me some of that good stuff, Taako is  _ starving,” _ he said. Then he gestured at the Cote around them. “And I am not cleaning this up. Bone Daddy, you left me to be a single parent in a time of distress.  _ You _ clean it up.”

“Taako. Love. You and I both know your cycle’s way beyond unpredictable. And your primitive side doesn’t know how to use a Stone of Farspeech. Unless you’re cracking nuts with it.”

Taako grumbled. “Fine. Whatevs. But I insist on some decent meals before I go expending calories and spell slots putting all this shit back where it belongs.”

Kravitz smiled that winning smile of his. “Fine, my Dove. Let me feed you?”

“Hellfuck yeah! If you think I’m getting up after  _ this _ noise, you got another think coming.”

Angus retreated from the scene, all the way back up to his bedroom. Free at last. Thanking all the Gods that he was free at last.

 

END!


End file.
